Micky mouse is dead

Here in the west, mice carry the hantavirus. You do not want them around. The virus can be transmitted simply by raising dust while sweeping, in an area that has droppings. I have known of several terminal cases down in Colorado over the years.

I had a paid storage bay where I discovered mice had come in. I went into hazmat mode. The incubation time can be weeks so you do some praying. Sunshine kills the virus. Dust masks and a weed sprayer full of a strong mixture of lysol are other tools. Some things you just throw away. You wet stuff down so as not to raise it to airborne.

 
Mention of CB caps triggers story mode (yeah, I'm old and proud of it... I should be dead).

TL;DR: CB caps be way more powerful than a Sheridan 5mm pump-up air rifle, which was top-heap powerful in 1966.
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Circa 1966, I bought a box of CB caps someplace... back then, 14-year-olds out hunting or driving powerboats didn't raise an eyebrow, so buying .22 ammo wasn't really noteworthy. Anyway, I had a Sheridan 5mm pellet rifle that I shot every day, often at backstop made of a cardboard box stuffed with a few magazines and newspapers (folded, not wadded --> more dense). The backstop was on the floor of my dad's metal shed in the back yard - kept backstop out of the rain; I just opened the door to shoot.

That Sheridan rifle would put a pellet through a 1/4" sheet of plywood, and my backstop reliably stopped them with layers of magazine/newspaper to spare. So I figured it would be adequate for CB caps.

So I loaded a CB cap into my single-shot .22, aimed, and let fly. WHACK RATTLE Rattle silence.

The bullet went through my backstop and rattle-bounced off the walls of the shed - fortunately didn't go THROUGH the wall.

Dad would have, um, been irate had he or my mother known about my little experiment. Lesson learned, mouth shut.
 
I did not want to use the CB's .it was a time an opportunity thing .
Don't be hard on yourself. There is no progress without bold experimentation. When a squirrel dropped into my fireplace, I used an air rifle, and the utter lack of stopping power is a source of lasting regret.
 
Well over 30 years ago, my cousin, his girlfriend and I rented a house on a farm just north of Wellington.

The place was old, cold, drafty and hadn't been lived in for a while before we moved in. In the first few days we heard scratching coming from the ceiling, so I got a ladder and went up through the hatch for a look. As expected there were a bunch of rats up there.

I rang a friend who brought his .22 revolver over a few days later, which I loaded with .22 birdshot. I put my safety glasses and earmuffs on and went back up into the ceiling, revolver in hand.

Not a single rat to be seen.

The only rats we ever saw after that were the dead ones the cat brought in. Never heard anything in the ceiling again either.

I got to shoot a lot of rabbits, some magpies and a couple of weasels on that 700 acres, but no rats.